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Cover Reveal for Murder En Pointe by: Charmain Zimmerman Brackett

Hello friends! I always love to be able to give back to people and I admit Charmain has a special place in my heart. She was the first friend I made on Facebook as Linda and I really cannot say enough kind things about her. She’s smart, professional, and kind hearted. I’m happy to help her out with her new novel coming out today! Be sure to check her story out and click on the buy link at the bottom.

Blurb: Murder En Pointe
With a diva ballerina waltzing through town for two sold-out performances, Grace Ward has to be on her toes to make sure the star’s flowers are perfect. Her delivery goes awry when she finds the prima donna dead, and another Augusta mystery lands in her lap.

Bio
Charmain Zimmerman Brackett writes about what she knows and loves – her hometown of Augusta, Ga. The veteran journalist has been a writer from the time she could pick up a pen and has written for various publications including The Augusta Chronicle, where she’s a feature writer and the ArtSide columnist. She’s written several novels and illustrated children’s books including the 2014 Yerby Award for Fiction winner, The Key of Elyon, and the 2015 Georgia Author of the Year winner, Little Pearl’s Circus World, based on the true story of her great-grandmother, Pearl Clark LaComa, who started performing in her father’s circus at the age of 4.

Book Except

I walked around and listened.

Silence – an eerie silence, at that.

I seemed to be alone, but for some reason, I felt like someone was watching me. I felt a shiver down my spine. I’d never heard of a phantom at this theater. I felt the urge to get out of there as fast as I could. I wanted to run.

I put my hand on the door handle and paused as I felt another shiver. That urge to run was even stronger. I knocked on the door and waited. Despite the feeling of dread, I opened the door, and what I saw as I entered the dressing room shocked me. I saw a woman lying on her back on the floor. It was Aleksandra. Wearing a beautiful, silk, Asian-inspired robe, the same leotard and tights from earlier, and a pair of pink pointe shoes on her feet, she lay motionless.

I stepped back and paused for what seemed like an eternity. Of course, it was probably only a few seconds. I couldn’t scream, but my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. When I finally got my bearings, I placed the flowers on the makeup counter in front of the wall of mirrors and then stared into the reflection. There was something written in Russian in red lipstick on one of the dressing room mirrors. Another mirror was broken and several of the light bulbs that surrounded it were broken as well. Bloodied glass shards lay on the counter and pulverized purple eye shadow glittered on the floor. Several containers littered the carpet as though Aleksandra had entered a massive struggle right before her violent end.

I noticed a second pair of pointe shoes beside her. Saturated in blood, the shoes’ ribbons were laced around her neck, and orchid blossoms were scattered atop her still body. There was blood on her hands, which were resting by her side. It was odd. It didn’t seem like a natural position. My own hands started shaking as I took it all in. I felt dizzy. Where was my phone? I rummaged through my purse until I found it. Speed dial 2 for my husband.

“Hey, baby. I was just getting ready to call you,” I heard Drew on the other end of the call.